who had fallen beneath the arrows and the
sword. But some who were so full of wine that they could not run,
tumbled headlong and lay there helpless.

"Woman," said Hugh when they had departed, "your husband is lost, but
you and your children are saved. Now go your ways and thank whatever God
you worship for His small mercies."

"Alas! Sir Knight," the poor creature, a still young and not unhandsome
Jewess, wailed in answer, "whither shall I go? If I return to that town
those Christian men will surely murder me and my children as they have
already murdered my husband. Kill us now by the sword or the bow--it
will be a kindness--but leave us not here to be tortured by the
Christian men according to their fashion with us poor Jews."

"Are you willing to go to Avignon?" asked Hugh, after thinking awhile.

"Ay, Sir Knight, or anywhere away from these Christians. Indeed, at
Avignon I have a brother who perchance will protect us."

"Then mount my horse," said Hugh. "Dick and David, draw those two
youngsters from the tubs and set them on your beasts; we can walk."

So the children, two comely little girls of eight and six years of age,
or thereabout, were dragged out of their dreadful prisons and lifted to
the saddle. The wretched widow, running to the bonfire, snatched from it
her husband's burnt-off hand and hid it in the bosom of her filthy robe.
Then she took some of the white ashes and threw them toward that city,
muttering curses as she did so.

"What do you?" asked Hugh curiously.

"I pray, sir, to Jehovah, the God of the Jews, that for every grain
of these ashes He may take a life in payment for that of my murdered
husband, and I think that He will listen."

"Like enough," answered Hugh, crossing himself, "but, woman, can you
wonder that we Christians hold you sorcerers when we hear such prayers
from your lips?"

She turned with a tragic motion, and, pointing to the bones of her
husband smouldering in the fire, answered:

"And can you wonder, sir, that we wretched creatures utter such prayers
when you, our masters, do such deeds as this?"

"No," answered Hugh, "I cannot. Let us be going from this shambles."

So they went, a melancholy procession if ever there one was seen upon
this earth. As the three Englishmen marched behind the horses with their
weeping burdens Grey Dick reflected aloud after his fashion.

"Jew and Christian!" he said. "The Jews killed one Man who chanced to
be a God, though they knew